


Seducing Adrien Agreste: A Step-By-Step Guide

by luminousbeings



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien is jealous, F/M, First Date, Flirting Lessons, Humor, Misunderstandings, Murphy's Law, Romance, chat's slightly better at it but he has a conflict of interest, it ends only partially in disaster, it's a long story, marinette sucks at seducing people, of himself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminousbeings/pseuds/luminousbeings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts with Ladybug asking Chat Noir for advice on how to seduce the guy she likes and goes rapidly downhill from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me: so what do you want as an end-of-the-year present  
> Lil sis: miraculous ladybug fanfiction  
> Me: cool gimme the deets  
> Lil sis: jealous adrien  
> Lil sis: like really jealous adrien  
> Lil sis: with a happy ending  
> Me: mmmyea I got this  
> Her: also I want chat noir giving marinette The Smolder™  
> Me: done and done
> 
> Also based on this [adorable pic](http://gicabyte.tumblr.com/post/132674718506/yes-he-is-chat-yes-he-is-cont-i-am) by [gicabyte](http://gicabyte.tumblr.com/). Go check out all their stuff, 'cause it is _amazing_.

Marinette stares at the ceiling with the sort of distant detachment she’d always kind of associated with nervous shock, copious blood loss, and finals week.

“My life is over,” she says, with complete certainty.

“Oh come on, girl,” says Alya, putting an arm around her shoulder. “It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

Marinette looks at her.

Alya winces. “Okay, it was that bad. But he probably didn’t notice your, uh… interesting response. He hardly ever notices what you do!”

“Gee,” says Marinette dully. “Thanks, Alya.”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“Just put me out of my misery now,” she sighs, putting an arm across her forehead. “I am doomed to a life of loneliness and sorrow. I will spend my days eating out of take-out boxes and staring into the distance, surrounded by my millions of pictures of Adrien taken from the internet, magazine clippings, and the hiding spot in the bushes fifty feet away.”

“And that’s different from the way it already is… how?”

“Alya!”

“The only real change is that you’re going to need a camera with some serious zoom if you want to achieve that level of stalk-age.”

Marinette groans and lets her head fall onto her friend’s shoulder. Alya pats her comfortingly.

\---

_Twenty minutes earlier._

It was the first day back from spring break, and Marinette was ready to take the rest of the semester by storm. She had spent her vacation designing two new outfits, defeating four akumas, and chilling out on the beach with Alya, and she was tanned, rested, and ready to slay.

She threw the classroom door open triumphantly.

The first thing that greeted her was Alya’s laugh. “Hey, girl! Don’t you look ready to kick chemistry-class butt!”

“You should talk!” said Marinette. “Once everybody sees your new red highlights you’ll be lucky if the boys ever leave you alone.”

“Hey, guys,” said a familiar voice. Marinette turned around. “How was your vacation?”

Adrien.

Adrien with golden skin and golden hair that somehow only brought out his perfect green eyes and perfect white smile even more.

Adrien staring at her, confused, waiting for an answer.

Alya elbowed her discreetly in the side.

“A-Adrien!” Mari blurted. “You’re looking god-like, as usual. I mean God! I—I mean good! God, you look good!”

Adrien looked even more confused. Alya slapped a hand over her face.

“Oh look at the time! I have to go!” said Marinette desperately, and ran out the door.

A long beat passed, during which Alya and Adrien just kind of stared at the door in mutual bemusement.

“Isn’t class about to start?” Adrien asked.

“Yup,” said Alya.

Sure enough, a moment later the door swung open again and Marinette slunk back in, head down. “My vacation was very good, Adrien, thank you for asking,” she muttered, far too formally.

And then she took her seat and stared at her desk until class started.

\---

“I thought I’d started building some immunity to him, but then I don’t see him for two weeks and it’s like all my progress has vanished!” Marinette wails. “It’s hopeless, Alya! I should just resign myself to dying alone with my five hundred and twenty-three cats!”

“It is not hopeless,” says Alya firmly. “We just need to try something different.”

“Like what?”

“We need,” says Alya. She pauses dramatically, “to bring in an expert.”

“What kind of expert?” Marinette asks.

“An expert on the male psyche.”

Mari thinks about that. “Do those exist?”

“I don’t know,” her friend admits. “But at least we can ask some males. Maybe they can give us some insight into the situation.”

“I guess,” says Marinette doubtfully.

“C’mon,” says Alya. “What could possibly go wrong?”

\---

“How to seduce a guy?” Nino repeats, looking confused. He glances over at Marinette, who’s still hiding behind Alya, her bright red face pressed into her friend’s shoulder.

“Yeah, like how to make someone fall for you. You know!”

“Uhh… I’m not exactly the world-expert on making people fall for me. I’d go to Adrien for that.”

Marinette’s head jerks up to look at Alya helplessly.

“Oh,” says Nino. “Ohhhh.”

“’Oh’ what?” Marinette demands. “’Oh’ _what!_?”

“Well, I’m totally down with it—heck, I’ve been shipping it for months now, but Adrien’s kinda in love with Lad—”

“ _Who ever said anything about Adrien_??” Marinette shrieks.

“I mean, the guy,” says Nino hastily. “Whoever the guy is! He might be in love with Ladybug.”

The girls stare at him.

“What? Any given guy might be in love with Ladybug. She’s _hot_.”

“What was that?” Adrien asks, coming up behind Nino. Marinette nearly jumps out of her skin. “Did I just hear you call Ladybug hot?” His tone is light and even pleasant, but somehow the question sounds more like “any last words?”

“No,” Nino whimpers.

“Oh,” says Adrien, and suddenly the skin-prickling cloud of vengeance seems to disappear just as quickly as it came. “Could’ve sworn I’d heard you guys talking about her.”

And he gives them a little shrug and a heart-stoppingly perfect smile, and goes back to the bookshelf he’d been examining.

“Seriously,” Nino whispers, quick and frantic, as soon as he’s gone. “I love Adrien like my own brother, but I wouldn’t touch his love life with a ten-foot pole. And I suggest you don’t either!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marinette asks once Nino has moved away.

“Men,” says Alya, long-suffering. “Who can understand them?”

\---

“How to seduce a guy?” Kim asks, aghast. “How would I know? I’ve never tried! I mean, I’ve never wanted to! Why would I want to! I’m not gay! Why would you ask me that? Why would you think that? Max is just my friend, okay? I’ve never even thought about him that way even once, ever!”

“Uh,” says Marinette.

“I’m not gay! I’ve never been into guys! Not even a single one! Why would you ask me that? Do I seem gay? I’m not gay!”

“Right,” says Marinette, and makes a hasty exit, stage left.

\---

“How to seduce a guy, huh?” Max mutters. His gaze seems to be drifting elsewhere, over Mari’s shoulder, to where…to where Kim is standing, actually. He sighs. “Well _I_ wouldn’t know. Tell me if you procure any useful data, though, all right?”

“Sure, Max.”

\---

“You just gotta be really, really gentle,” says Ivan, as if divulging a very important secret. “The trick is to not scare them off. Just go real, real slow and eventually it’ll work out!”

“If I went any slower with this guy I would be going backwards,” Marinette sighs. “But thank you, Ivan. I really appreciate it.”

\---

Nathanael drops all of his books on the floor.

Marinette gasps and bends down to help him pick them up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…”

“H-how to s-seduce a…” Nathanael manages. “A…”

“A guy,” Marinette supplies. “What do you think I can do to make someone attracted to me?”

“I, uh,” says the boy. “I wouldn’t…”

He trails off and Marinette looks up at him, and for a long moment they stay like that, paused in picking up his materials from the floor, and it occurs to her that their faces are just a couple of inches apart, their hands even closer.

The silence stretches for a long, long moment.

“Well!” says Nathanael, grabbing the rest of his stuff in one motion, his face bright red. “I have…a thing. In a place! Right!”

“He didn’t even answer the question,” says Marinette, disappointed, watching him go.

\---

“Dad,” Marinette asks when she gets home, “how do you win over someone you like?”

“You don’t,” says her father.

Mari stares. “I… don’t?”

“No,” says her father matter-of-factly. “When you reach marriageable age, your mother and I will select a worthy mate for you. Then you’ll spend a few years—you know, like twenty or so—getting to know each other, talking and so on. Then if it goes well you can move to hand-holding, or maybe, _maybe_ , putting your arms around each other’s shoulders. Then if _that_ goes well you can take it a little further. It can be a nice little twenty-fifth anniversary surprise, to show him that you do, in fact, have knees! And then, after thirty years…”

“Don’t listen to a word your father says,” says her mother, patting his arm fondly. “He has no idea what he’s talking about.”

\---

It’s two hours into patrol that night when she realizes that the solution is right in front of her. Literally.

They’ve done the rounds of Paris twice and have ended up taking a break on the edge of the roof of one of Paris’s tallest skyscrapers, taking in the the slow night traffic and quiet city sounds below them. Only a handful of inches and a comfortable silence lay between them.

“Hey, Chat…” she says, turning to him. “You’re technically male.”

Chat laughs. “Thanks. I think.” He waggles his eyebrows at her. “Why, do you need something only a man can give you?”

Ladybug sighs. “You’re impossible. But actually…yes.”

Her partner seems to sober slightly, maybe picking up on her serious tone. “Oh, really,” he says, moving just a bit closer to her on the ledge. “What can I do to help, My Lady?”

Marinette bites her lip. “You have to promise not to laugh at me.”

“You know I can’t give guarantees on adult behavior, it’s against my code of ethics.”

“You don’t _have_ a code of ethics.”

“Sure I do. Rule 1, no girls allowed in the Cat Cave, unless it’s My Lady. Rule 2, no promise for any kind of maturity. Rule 3, nobody gives me rules, unless it’s My Lady.”

“I see there are a couple of loopholes in this cat’s ball of yarn,” says Ladybug teasingly.

“There’s no rule against loopholes. In fact, I like ‘em. I like getting out of things. I like getting out of many things, in fact…” He pulls on his collar and winks.

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like the point of this conversation!”

“I apologize, My Lady,” says her partner, not at all apologetically. “How can I service you tonight?”

“I need help seducing someone.”

Chat nearly falls off the roof.

“What?” he splutters, when he’s regained his balance. “What? _Who_?”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “What, you want his name, address, and social security number?”

“Yes,” says Chat immediately.

“What?”

“What? Oh, you were joking! W-well, so was I! Haha!”

Ladybug blinks. “I’m lost.”

Chat composes himself enough to give her a smile. Which is nice, even though for some reason it looks kind of… _fanged_ , and she has to fight down the oddest urge to run in the opposite direction. “Just his name will do for now.”

Mari takes a deep breath and says, “His name is A—”, before it suddenly dawns on her that Chat Noir _knows_ Adrien Agreste. _Everyone_ knows Adrien Agreste. His face and body are plastered all across the city, not to mention the magazines and publicity interviews… If Chat knew she was crushing on the most lusted-after boy in Paris he would never let her live it down. There’s no way he would give up the opportunity to croon “Oh look, it’s loverboy!~” every time they pass one of his billboards…and God forbid they ever actually _see_ Adrien in real life! She can only imagine Chat’s teasing…and the _puns_ … Oh dear God, the puns…

Oh, no, the time to come up with a fake name has long gone! Think, Mari, think! Say anything! “A—” she stammers. All she can think of is her History class earlier that day, where they had started learning about the French Revolution, and King Louis XVI, and Marie Antoinette… “A-Antoine?” she tries.

Chat glares out at the city. “Antoine,” he repeats flatly.

“Yeah…Antoine!” she continues, warming to the name. “I’ve liked him for…well, pretty much since the day I met him. But he barely knows I exist. I mean, he knows I exist, but he’s never thought of me that way, you know?”

Her partner is still scowling at nothing in particular and doesn’t respond.

“Will you help me?” she asks.

Her partner jolts out of his reverie and gives her a wan smile. “Naahh, I don’t… I don’t think I’m the right guy to help you with that kind of stuff.”

“You’re the _only_ guy to help me with this stuff! Come on, please? I’ll do anything…”

His ears perk up. “ _Anything_?”

Ladybug groans and rolls her eyes. “Anything within reason!”

“Well then forget about it.”

“Please, Chat? I trust you. You’re one of my best friends!”

For some reason that doesn’t seem to make him happy; just kind of _pained_.

“ _Please_?” she tries for a third time, desperate. “You have no idea what it’s like, wanting someone who’s never looked at you twice. It’s almost worse, having these feelings and knowing they’re completely unrequited, than just getting rejected, because every day I end up wondering if maybe today’s the day he finally sees me—not just sees me but _sees_ me—and it never happens and it just…hurts.”

Chat Noir just looks at her, his eyes dark and unfathomable.

“Fine,” he says at last. “I’ll help you. Or at least I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask!” says Marinette brightly. Chat might drive her crazy sometimes, but he’s still the one she wants fighting by her side no matter what the challenge. Even challenges of the dear-God-why-is-my-classmate-so-attractive variety.

“I don’t know, you could…wear something different,” he says slowly. “Something to catch his eye, make him think of you in that way if he hasn’t yet.”

She frowns. “Just an outfit?”

“I don’t know!” says Chat, exasperated. “An outfit’s the easiest thing I could think of.”

It’s a good idea, she has to admit. Simple and easy, and it won’t require her embarrassing herself and/or destroying her friendship with Adrien. “I’ll definitely try it. But I’m going to need more than that. A back-up plan. No, a step-by-step guide! The Official Chat Noir Seduction Handbook!”

“How am I supposed to make you a step-by-step guide to winning over this dude?” says Chat, irritated. “I know nothing about him!”

“So I’ll tell you about him,” says Marinette.

“No way!” Chat growls, then seems to catch himself, “I mean, okay. I mean…. Ugh. I mean, yeah, we should do that. Tomorrow. Right now have to, uh. Go.”

“Go?” Ladybug repeats, confused. Chat Noir gets to his feet and pulls out his staff. “Wait, there’s still forty minutes left to patrol!”

“Sweet dreams, My Lady,” Chat says, more subdued than usual, and then he’s swinging off into the night.

\---

“My life is over,” Adrien mutters into his pillow.

“Okay, it’s bad enough that the love of your life is chasing after somebody else,” comes Plagg’s voice from somewhere overhead, “but why did you agree to _help her_? Are you _stupid_?”

“I don’t know! I thought if I was involved in it, maybe I could control it. I panicked, what do you want from me?”

“You panicked.”

“I don’t know, okay? She was talking about…about loving someone and them never seeing you, and wondering what’s wrong with you that they never even for a second seem to think of you that way and I just… I just wanted to protect her from that. I didn’t want her to have to feel the things I feel. ‘Cause they _suck._ ”

It’s quiet for a long moment.

“You could give her terrible advice,” Plagg suggests, breaking the silence. “You could give her such horrible advice that the guy ends up totally hating her guts!”

“Yeah, she definitely won’t pick up on that _at all_ ,” says Adrien sarcastically. “And it’ll be a great opportunity to ask her out! ‘Hey, I know I totally just sabotaged your chances with the guy you actually _like_ … Care for a rebound with the guy you can vaguely tolerate?’ Gee, I can’t think of a single way that might go wrong!”

“Maybe we can figure out who this Antoine guy is and, yanno. Get rid of him. Quiet-like,” says Plagg helpfully.

“Hm… That’s actually not a bad…. Uh. I mean—no, we can’t get rid of him! That would be wrong!”

“We don’t have to kill him! We could just…maim him a little bit.”

Adrien ignores that. “And now all she’s gonna be talking about tomorrow is _Antoine._ What a butt-ugly name,” he mutters peevishly. “Probably has an ugly face too, to go with his name. And he’s probably stupid. He’s _definitely_ stupid if Ladybug’s wanted him all this time and he hasn’t even _noticed_ her.”

Plagg makes a noncommittal noise.

“Seriously, what kind of name is _Antoine_ anyway?” Adrien rages. “I couldn’t come up with a more pretentious name if I tried! He sounds like a jerk. He sounds like Jerky McJerkface. Hah. That would be a way better name for him.”

“Sure,” says Plagg.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“Do you think he’s hotter than me?” Adrien wonders, quieter now. “Or even just more her type—more built, maybe, or darker hair, or…”

“Yeah, probably,” says Plagg.

“What?!” He shoots up out of bed. “Plagg, you’re supposed to say _no_!”

Plagg shakes his head and floats away. “I ain’t gettin’ involved, kid.”

“I could work out more,” he says thoughtfully to himself. “Or dye my hair…”

“Isn’t your hair insured for ten thousand euros?” Plagg asks. “I’m pretty sure you’re not _allowed_ to dye it even if you wanted to.”

“I have a wig around here somewhere.”

“You have a _problem_ is what you have.”

Adrien flops back down and pulls his pillow over his face and groans. “Stupid _Antoine_.”

“I still say we just get rid of him.”

“Don’t tempt me, Plagg.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find my reference for Marinette's outfit right over [here](http://lgcdn.amiclubwear.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/420x630/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/c/l/clothing-dress-iii1-wd370redblack.jpg). Enjoy!

Besides for being a surprisingly good advice-giver-slash-wingman, Chat Noir apparently acts as an excellent motivator too, because the second Marinette returns home from patrol she begins enthusiastically working on a dress she’d started last week, but gotten too busy to finish. All she has to do is finish the lace around the neckline and put in the elastic and hem the bottom… She figures it’ll take her four hours or so, but her single-mindedness makes unexpectedly short work of it.

It’s 1:28 AM when she finally collapses, exhausted but satisfied, dreaming of Adrien’s reaction.

\---

Despite her late night, Marinette’s nerves wakes her up so early and so restless that the lack of sleep barely registers. She has more than enough time to put the finishing touches on her dress and try it on in the mirror.

It’s… it’s _good_. Even to her self-critical eye, it’s good. The miniskirt might be slightly shorter than she’d normally wear, and the wedge heels slightly higher, but with the gentle cinched waist and flowy material it comes off as cute, rather than skanky. It looks different, like Chat Noir had suggested. And even without her costume, her Ladybug colors always seem to give her an extra dose of strength.

She even manages to leave her house early, grabbing a croissant on the way out, excited and a little bit nervous and a _lot_ a bit eager to show off her new outfit. She flings open the door, feeling like she could take on the world, and—

—and is immediately splattered head-to-toe in a massive spray of mud.

“I AM MUD MONSTER!” roars someone from the sky. Marinette looks up, and… well, maybe _roars_ isn’t the right word. The so-called Mud Monster doesn’t look a day over nine years old, even with the mask and the brown wind-tossed cape. “IF I CAN’T HAVE FUN PLAYING IN THE MUD, NO ONE CAN HAVE FUN, EVER!”

“Nope,” she mutters, shoulders slumping. “I am not dealing with this today. I’m going back to sleep.”

She watches dully as one of the puddles (apparently doubling as a mind control device; always fun when they have those) bursts into bright purple light and the person inside turns into a Mud Zombie.

The world couldn’t be on her side just this once, could it.

“Uh…Marinette?” says a little voice from her purse.

Right. Tikki. World-Saving. Priorities.

Well, as another superpowered bug likes to say, ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Mari sighs.

“Tikki, spots on!”

\---

Of course, because the universe hates her, Chat Noir only shows up when she’s been pinned to a wall by a sticky spray of mud, her yoyo on the ground two feet away.

“Looks like you’re in a bit of a _mess_ , My Lady.”

Ladybug groans. “Very funny.”

He starts working on the edges of her mud-made restraints, sparing only a glance for the akuma. “New friend? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

She gestures with what little movement she still has in her hand to the akumatized boy now focusing his mud-slinging powers at some other victim. “Chat, meet Mud Monster. Mud Monster, Chat Noir.”

“Mud Monster? Really?”

“Hey, I don’t name ‘em, I just fight ‘em. And no filthy jokes out of you – there are kids watching us, let’s keep it G-rated.” Finally the mud breaks away and Ladybug steps off from the wall, enjoying being able to breathe again.

“Shame,” says Chat, grinning. “And here I was hoping you’d talk dirty to me.”

Ladybug sighs. Her partner bends down and returns her yoyo.

“Thanks. He can control anyone standing in his mud puddles, so watch out.”

“Ah,” he says. “What a dirty trick!”

She gives him a Look. “Stop.”

“I can’t, the punnage potential is too strong!”

“Well you’d better learn to resist the urge if you don’t want to deal with the inevitable pun-ishment.”

“Au contraire.” He smirks. “You can pun-ish me anytime you like, My Lady.”

Before she can respond, Mud Monster gives a loud (if high-pitched) scream and shoots a torrent of mud in their direction, and Ladybug steps in front of Chat Noir to knock it away with her yoyo. She manages to keep it from immobilizing either of them, but it still splashes everywhere, and both of them have to flip away to one of the nearby roofs to avoid the puddles.

“This akuma is terrible for my hair,” Chat complains.

“Now you sound like Chloé!” says Marinette, spinning behind a chimney just as mud splatters the very spot she had been in a moment ago.

“It’s not my fault if it takes me a bit of time to look this _purr_ -fect,” he protests.

“Well you can kiss your _purr_ -fect hair goodbye, ‘cause we’re both gonna be a hot mess by the time this is over.”

“Did you just call me hot?”

Had she? Ladybug regrets all the things. “I called _us_ a hot mess. I’m the hot one, you’re the mess.”

Chat Noir just laughs. “I should get a t-shirt. ‘Proud boyfriend of the sassiest girl in the universe.’”

“Still not your girlfriend,” she reminds him.

“Not _yet.”_

They fall into their familiar rhythm of banter and battling and more banter, and finally it becomes clear that the boy’s akuma is in his rain boots. Now all she has to do is figure out how to get them off of him… Hmm…

“How much mud, do you think, is needed to soak through a pair of rain boots?” she asks her partner as he does an rather impressive flip over two Mud Zombies, knocking a third one out in the process.

“Well it depends on the quality of boots, doesn’t it?” he quips.

“Yes, thank you, please stop being so helpful, it’s too much.”

“One good drenching should probably do it,” says Chat thoughtfully. “Why, you got a large supply of water waiting around somewhere?”

“Maybe,” she says. “If you’re willing to help.”

“Of course! I would never give up the opportunity to see My Lady get wet.”

There’s a pause.

“Admittedly I did not think that one through,” Chat acknowledges.

“Really?” says Ladybug. “What a shock. I’m shocked. Exclamation points.”

“It’s harder than it looks, punning and fighting at the same time!” says Chat, using his staff to get closer to the mud monster and ducking a mud spray simultaneously. “But I carry the burden so well.”

She groans, but follows him. “One more joke like that and _your_ name will be Mud.”

“Not bad,” he acknowledges. “But I do it better.”

“You do it more frequently,” she corrects him.

“STOP IGNORING ME!” Mud Monster screams, as a waterfall of mud plunges toward them. Marinette tackles Chat Noir out of the way and manages to use the momentum to flip back up into a fighting position without pausing.

Chat fans himself with his hand. “Are you sure you’re fighting and not just showing off?”

“Says the guy who pole-dances regularly.”

“I’ll have you know that pole-dancing is a perfectly legitimate sport.”

“STOP TALKING LIKE I’M NOT HERE!” Mud Monster shrieks, and the two of them have to duck another stream.

“I don’t have time for this,” Ladybug mutters, the exasperation starting to gnaw at her. “I have to get to school!”

“Don’t let ol’ Mud Monster here bother you,” he tells her. He smirks and gestures to the puddle she’s standing in. “That filth is beneath you.”

The realization hits them both at the same time. _That filth is beneath you_. That puddle underneath her feet is…

The next moment is a blur of lights and sounds. All at once, Chat is yelling “LADYBUG!” and the puddle is bursting into purple energy, and then she’s being knocked off her feet by something (someone) warm and solid and….familiar

They roll away from the sizzling, writhing energy just in time, and he ends up on top of her, both breathing hard as understanding sinks in of just how badly that could have gone. For once she doesn’t push him off immediately.

“You really have to stop putting yourself in danger for me,” she manages eventually, her heart pounding. She wonders how loud it sounds to his heightened cat senses.

He just gives her a wide, lazy grin back. “Never.”

\---

She gets to school just as her Miraculous deactivates and changes back behind a pillar and _runs_ to class, but it turns out she’s not so late after all. Ms. Bustier hasn’t started her lesson yet, and Adrien is just now taking his seat. He must’ve gotten there only a few seconds before her.

“Oh my God,” Chloé laughs. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

 _You have no idea,_ Marinette thinks. But she doesn’t have the time or energy to engage with Chloé today – she just wants to get class started and show off her outfit and maybe even talk to Adrien and…

And the entire classroom has gone quiet. The only sound is Chloé and Sabrina giggling in the front row.

Marinette looks down at herself.

Her dress is covered top to bottom in drying mud, her shoes caked in it, and—she reaches one hand up—her face and neck splattered in it… Of _course_ her own outfit was the only thing not fixed by her Lucky Charm reversal – she had still been in costume at the time.

She touches the back of her neck and realizes that she’s lost one of her ponytails at some point, so half of her hair hangs loose and tangled and dirty while the other half has miraculously stayed in place, undoubtedly adding to the general impression of homelessness and/or insanity.

“You look horrible,” Chloé informs her gleefully, and the blush slams onto Marinette’s face. She looks around to her best friend, but Alya just stares back helplessly, her expression a clear “girl, even I can’t fix this one.” Nino is politely averting his eyes. And Adrien…

Adrien is looking at her sympathetically.

Pityingly.

“You can go home to get changed,” Ms. Bustier tells her. “Just come back as soon as possible.”

\---

“What should we do with your new outfit?” Tikki asks when they get home.

“Burn it,” says Marinette in a disturbingly flat voice.

“The staining isn’t so bad. I bet if we bring it to the dry cleaners they can make it good as new…”

“Burn it,” she says again.

“Uh,” says Tikki, giving a nervous little laugh. “Maybe we should get back to school and deal with the outfit later.”

\---

Nino is firmly of the belief that other people’s business is their own, and should stay that way. So it’s usually a no-brainer that looking over the next guy’s shoulder at what he’s doing is against Official Nino Policy.

 _Usually_ being the objective word, because sometimes that next guy is his best friend, and sometimes what he’s doing is scribbling angrily at a paper, eyebrows down and jaw clenched and something that vaguely looks like a human face in his notebook.

“Who’s that?” Nino asks, against his better judgment.

“His name is Antoine,” Adrien says, sitting back to admire his work. “What do you think?”

Nino glances over. Jesus, the poor boy can’t draw for his life. “Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“He looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy with a Hitler moustache.”

To his surprise, Adrien snickers. “Yeah, he does! What a _loser_.”

And then he goes back to his picture and Nino shoots a save-me-from-my-crazy-friend look over his shoulder to Alya, who just shakes her head sadly in response.

“Probably has loads of acne, too,” Adrien is muttering to himself, stabbing pen marks all over Antoine’s face. Nino inches his char away.

Adrien is so busy with his Portrait of Hatred that he doesn’t notice when Marinette reenters the classroom in her usual outfit, eyes down and face bright red in mortification, and shuffles over to her seat.

\---

_THUNK._

“I still don’t get why you need to train yourself in yet another attack style,” Plagg whines around his mouthfuls of camembert.

“Well, think about it,” says Adrien. He picks up the next knife from the table, twirling it through his fingers and throwing it in one smooth motion.

 _THUNK._ It hits his homemade target dead-on.

“Ladybug has three powers – her yoyo, her lucky charm, and her de-evilizing abilities.”

 _THUNK_.

“I just have two – my staff and Cataclysm.”

_THUNK._

“So,” he continues, spinning another knife from his left hand to his right behind his back, “I figured I should add a new weapon of my own.”

He takes aim and— _THUNK._ Another perfect shot. He smirks in satisfaction.

“And out of all the weapons in the world you chose throwing knives because…?”

“Oh,” says Adrien casually, “no reason.”

 _THUNK_ goes another knife, straight through his drawing of Antoine’s stupid little smile.

Plagg stares.

“And hey, turns out I’m actually pretty good at it!” Adrien says brightly.

“Amazing what you can do with the right motivation,” his kwami mutters, making sure to fly well out of harm’s way.

\---

“It didn’t work,” Ladybug tells him on patrol that night. Her shoulders are hunched, her arms wrapped around her knees, her flush evident even under her mask.

“What do you mean it didn’t _work_?” he asks. “How can an outfit not work?”

She bites her lip, looking embarrassed. “Uhmm… It’s a long story…”

And yeah, Chat promised to help her and all, but he doesn’t really want to know the play-by-play details of his crush’s love life. “Long story short, then, what did he say?”

“He said I looked horrible.”

Adrien chokes.

“He said _what_?!”

“Well, he didn’t _say_ it, exactly, someone else said it and he didn’t disagree,” Ladybug says, rambling a little, and God, he hasn’t seen her this uncertain since their first day together. If this is the standard feeling he invokes in her, if that bastard saps her of her confidence, her vibrancy, Chat Noir is going to _tear him limb from limb_. “He didn’t say anything to me, actually, which makes sense, because the akuma got mud all over my…”

She’s still talking, but Chat can’t process any of it, unable to hear anything over the roaring, blazing rage that _she went out of her way for him and he told her she looked horrible._

 _THUNK_ goes the blade of a knife straight through his mental dartboard.

“…So we need to move to Step Two of Chat Noir’s Seduction Guide,” she finishes, and Adrien grits his teeth.

“I still don’t understand why you’re trying to win over this jerk.”

“He’s not a jerk!” she protests. “It’s not his fault, I really did look horrible.”

And contrary to popular belief, Chat does, in fact, have self-control. A lot of self-control, actually, which is why he is not going to track Antoine down and Cataclysm him in the face.

He’s _not_.

“Not a jerk, huh,” he manages instead.

“No! He’s really, really smart…”

“I’m smart,” says Chat, despite himself.

“And friendly…”

“I’m friendly.”

“And a total gentleman…”

“I can be a gentleman.”

Ladybug smiles a little. It’s faint, but it’s still the first positive emotion he’s seen from her all night. “You, a gentleman?”

He crosses his arms and lifts his chin indignantly. “Well if that’s how you’re going to be, you can figure out how to seduce loverboy all by yourself.”

“Aww, come on!” says his partner, touching his arm. Electricity follows the trail of her fingers along his skin. “You know I think you’re the best! I wouldn’t exactly call you a _gentleman_ , but that’s part of your charm. And that’s what makes you the perfect seduction consultant!”

She’s looking at him with a beautiful sheepish smile and beautiful bright blue eyes and her hand is still resting on his arm, and well. Flattery will get you everywhere.

Chat Noir sniffs. “Fine. If you want to keep using me as your man-behind-the-curtain rather than doing what normal people do, go right ahead.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, amused. “So you’re saying… normal people wouldn’t listen to you?”

“A normal person wouldn’t _dream_ of listening to me,” he declares, before his brain can process what just came out of his mouth.

Ladybug bursts out laughing.

Chat tries to glare at her, but it’s hard to stay angry when she’s holding her stomach and cracking up, her breath coming in gasps, looking so carefree and open and _happy_.

So different from the miserable, humiliated girl who’d shown up to patrol that night.

 _Can_ you _make her laugh like that, Antoine?_ he thinks viciously. _I don’t_ think _so_.

“So, Mr. Man Behind The Curtain,” she prompts when she’s gotten herself back under control. “What’s up for Step Two?”

“You need to spend some time with him,” he tells her, because that had been bothering him since last night. For all the affection his partner obviously had for this guy, it didn’t sound like they ever actually _hung out_ together. And if Antoine’s anything close to being the jerk Adrien suspects he is, the best way to solve that is for Ladybug to see said jerkiness for herself.

“ _What??”_ she squeaks. “N-no way, that’s way too fast! I can’t ask him on a date yet!”

“Not on a date, just as friends,” he assures her. “I’m just saying before you start thinking about a romantic relationship, you need to spend time with him…. Talk to him… Get to know him as a person… ”

… _Realize how much of a douche he is…_

“Oh,” says Ladybug. “That’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is, it’s mine!” he brags. Ladybug rolls her eyes affectionately. “But... make sure you take other people with you. I’m not sure if you should be alone with him just yet—he might be dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” she repeats, blinking.

“You know. Controlling… Emotionally abusive, physically abusive…”

Ladybug waves that off dismissively. “Oh, no, he’s not.”

“How do you know?” Adrien demands. “Abusers always come off as normal until you’re in a relationship with them! How has he treated his past girlfriends?”

She hesitates. “I don’t know. I’m not sure he’s had any.”

“Okay, then how does he treat his friends?”

“Really well!” says Ladybug. “He’s incredibly loyal and kind. Even to the people who don’t deserve it.”

Derp. Well _that_ backfired.

“Yes, loyalty and kindness are common warning signs of possible abuse,” says Chat, rubbing his chin wisely. “Could be dangerous. I’d run while you still can.”

The girl pauses, looks at him, speculative. Finally she sighs. “Chat… I know what all this animosity toward A—Antoine is about.”

Her suddenly serious tone sends ice down his veins. “Y-You do?” he asks, stomach churning with an odd combination of hope and dread.

“Of course,” says his partner. “You’re trying to keep me from getting my feelings hurt. Which I appreciate, really, I do. But I can take care of myself.”

 _Oh._ His shoulders slump. Whether in relief or disappointment, even he isn’t quite sure. “I know you can, My Lady, but…”

Ladybug grins at him, the warmth obvious in her voice, in the brightness of her eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I know you’re just being supportive. That means a lot to me.”

Yup. He’s super supportive. If looking forward to getting home and hurling a knife into her boyfriend’s forehead is what’s passing for supportive these days. But that’s a secret between him and his bedroom walls.

There’ve been a lot of secrets between him and his bedroom walls since meeting Ladybug, actually.

“Even if I couldn’t take care of myself,” his Lady says softly, “the painful stuff that happens when he _does_ notice me would still be better than the total disinterest when he doesn’t.”

Adrien looks at her, his chest aching, and knows exactly what she means.

“Anyway, you don’t have to worry,” Ladybug assures him, looking back up. “He’s the last person to be controlling or abusive, he’s… He’s sweet, and polite, and generous… Like I said, a complete gentleman. Even _you’d_ like him if you met him!”

Meanwhile in Chat’s mind, a throwing knife lands with a _THUNK_ right between Antoine’s stupid Pillsbury Doughboy eyes.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he mutters.


	3. Chapter 3

Nathalie Sancoeur would be the last person to claim to be any kind of expert in child-rearing.

In fact, she could claim quite the opposite—having grown up with no siblings and a moderate case of mysophobia (or germophobia, as the uneducated masses tend to call it) led her far away from any child-oriented career to the field of executive administration, which led her to her current job as personal assistant to one of Paris’s top designers, Gabriel Agreste.

Which somehow led her back to childcare.

If that isn’t a sign that the universe has a screwed-up sense of humor, Nathalie doesn’t know what is.

In any case, yes, although her job has involved some unexpected tasks in…domestic services, Nathalie has steadfastly remained one of the least qualified people on the planet to act as an authority on adolescent behavior.

Still, even she knows that when teenagers are too quiet, it does not bode well.

“Hey, Nathalie,” Adrien says after ten minutes of complete silence during that morning’s drive to school, startling her from her iPad. “Let’s say—theoretically—a girl were to dress up for a guy she likes. Theoretically. And let’s say the guy were to tell her that she looks horrible. Would it be normal for that girl to, theoretically, still think he’s a gentleman?”

It takes her a moment to process that. “This is…theoretical?” she asks. _Hopes_. Because her salary may be generous, but she is _not_ paid enough to deal with…with _this._

“Yeah,” says Adrien. “Yeah, theoretically. Totally, just… um. Hypothetical. Just something I imagined. In my, uh. Imagination.”

“Well, theoretically,” says Nathalie, “I would inform that I am unqualified to evaluate the conduct of members within a romantic relationship, as I’ve never conducted one myself.”

“Really?” he says, a definite note of relief in his voice. “Because I kind of thought you and Father—”

“No,” says Nathalie, and feels compelled to add for the sake of honesty, “However, that isn’t to say I would be opposed to the prospect of a relationship, if he offered—”

“Oh my God,” says Adrien, eyes widening.

“Well, considering that I already work twenty-four hours a day seven days a week for him, and he _is_ a very successful and objectively attractive man—”

Adrien covers his ears. “I’m exercising my ‘I hate this conversation, let’s make it stop’ card.”

“You’re the one who asked if I’d ever been involved with someone.”

“Just a ‘no’ would’ve sufficed, thanks!”

“Mr. Gorilla has been in romantic relationships,” Nathalie tells him, passing the buck to her coworker because, dammit, she’s a personal assistant, not a life coach!

“Yeah?” says Adrien, perking up.

There’s a pause.

“Yes,” says Gorilla.

“Not with my father, though, right?” he asks, trying to make a joke of it. Or not. Nathalie isn’t quite sure.

“No,” says Gorilla.

“So do _you_ think my, uh…theoretical scenario is normal?”

“No,” says Gorilla.

“Hmmm.” Adrien sits back in his seat and says nothing for the rest of the trip, lost in thought. Which, again, in Nathalie’s (admittedly limited) experience in child-rearing, _never_ bodes well.

Nathalie and Gorilla both get out of the car to watch him safely in to the school, as they do every day, and Adrien waves back at them from the top of the stairs, as he does every day. But today they wait until he’s out of sight, and then they turn to one another.

“I won’t tell Mr. Agreste if you don’t,” says Nathalie.

Even on Gorilla’s otherwise-impassive face, the relief is obvious. “Yes.”

\---

Thanks to Nathalie’s A-plus-planning-skills-slash-probable-OCD, Adrien gets to school twenty minutes early, as he does every day, and uses the opportunity to take his sweet time alone in the locker room getting ready for first period P.E.

“There’s nothing you can do about the Ladybug situation while you’re at school,” says Plagg, enjoying his last few minutes of flying time before the rest of the boys arrive. “Why don’t you put it aside for now?”

“She wants a gentleman,” he mutters to his own reflection in the mirror. “Well, I can be a gentleman.”

“That’s the spirit,” says Plagg wearily.

\---

And so begins Operation Bond—named after a) mankind’s greatest gentleman, of course, James Bond, and b) the purpose of his mission, in order for he and Ladybug to bond (yes, it’s a pun, sue him). He just needs someone to practice on…

And as fate would have it, he’s a few feet away from the classroom door when he sees Marinette just in front of him, and it strikes him like a chopstick to the eyeball.

Actually— _ow_. Never mind that simile. It hits him like a really, really good idea.

Because it’s not like he and Marinette are enemies. Quite the opposite, actually. She seems to just...want nothing to do with him. Whenever he starts a conversation with her, she finds a way to cut it short, even _running away_ sometimes. He’s seen how comfortable and friendly she is with pretty much everyone else in the class (barring Chloé, but who can blame her?), but somehow he’s never even been able to get through a real conversation with her.

If he can charm Marinette, he might just have a shot with Ladybug.

Buoyed by the idea of being able to develop his relationship with both of them, he hurries his pace a little bit so he can open the door for her.

“May I say that you’re looking beautiful today?” he says when she looks up, giving her his best smile.

“I – I am?” she says faintly, her eyes wide.

“Of course! Except…” He puts his hand to his chin, pretending to think. “Except you really don’t need make-up. Your eyes are stunning enough as it is.”

The blush slams onto Marinette’s face, and _oh_ , he’d always known how cute she was, but when she’s like this it’s impossible to ignore. If his Lady blushes anything like that, he won’t be responsible for his actions.

“Y-y-you too!” Marinette stammers. “You don’t need make-up either! I mean, you’re stunning! I mean your make-up is stunning! I mean—oh my God.” She puts her face in her hands. “I’m shutting up now, I swear.”

Adrien laughs. “Don’t shut up. And don’t feel bad! Smile!”

She takes her hands away from her face, only to stare at him doubtfully.

“I’m serious,” he tells her. “I’m not having such a great morning, and it always makes me fell better when I see a pretty girl smile. So… would you smile for me?”

Oh. Wow. He’s never seen an actual person turn that color before.

Marinette hurries into the room and practically _vaults_ into her seat next to Alya, and Adrien is left to wonder if that’s a good sign or a bad sign. At least he didn’t get slapped? And it just may have been their longest consecutive conversation, too. So…progress?

“ _Agreste_!” someone calls, breaking him out of his thoughts. It’s Alya, her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “A _word_.”

Uh-oh. Quick, Adrien, what’d you do??

She strides past him into the hallway, and he follows her, frantically trying to decide what to apologize for.

Alya closes the classroom door after them, then turns on him.

“What are you playing at?” she demands.

“Playing at?” he echoes.

“With Marinette!”

 _Oh._ “Nothing, I’m not playing at anything!” he assures her, putting his hands up in the universal don’t-shoot-I’m-just-an-innocent-supermodel gesture.

Alya doesn’t look convinced. “Then what’s up with the cheap, overused pick-up lines?”

“I’m not using cheap, overused pick-up lines.” (It’s true. He’d made those up all by himself.) “There is no pick-up line worthy of such beautiful girls.”

To his surprise, Alya actually blushes, just a little bit. “Oh, you _are_ good.” Still, she crosses her arms. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t castrate you with a melon baller if you’re trying to tease her.”

“Tease Marinette?” says Adrien, blinking. “No way! I’m just practicing.”

“Practicing for what?”

There’s no good way out of this, is there? “Um… for a role?”

“Well, practice on somebody else!”

“Oh,” says Adrien, apologetic and not knowing _why_. “Okay.”

Alya’s expression softens. “Look, I know you don’t know all the rules of social interaction yet, and I know you don’t know what you’re doing. Just…trust me on this one. If you need to practice your lines, practice on Nino. All right?”

“Sure,” he says, confused. She opens the classroom door again and he has to ask, “Did I do something really bad?”

Alya looks at him. “No, you did something really good. That’s the problem.”

And she disappears inside the room, leaving Adrien to wonder what on earth that means.

He doesn’t have much time to think, though—class is about to start. So he goes back inside, to his seat, where Nino is waiting. And hey, far be it from him to ignore Alya’s advice….

Adrien grins and bows. “May I have the distinguished honor and privilege of sitting next to you?”

“Damn, boy,” says Nino, staring at him as he sits down. “What’s got into you?”

“Oh, nothing. Do you feel charmed?”

“What?”

“Charmed. Attracted. You know.”

“To you?” says Nino.

“No, to the abominable snowman. Of course to me!”

“I guess,” says Nino doubtfully.

Adrien nods. “Good,” and ignores the what-the-hell look he shoots over his shoulder to Alya.

He’s still kind of unsure how Operation Bond went over but, well, he’d gotten some kind of reaction from Marinette, Alya, _and_ Nino, and that had to count for _something_ , right?

Right.

He’s totally gonna sweep his Lady off her feet tonight.

\---

Except he doesn’t sweep his Lady off her feet. He’s barely able to so much as get her attention.

“May I say that you’re looking beautiful today?” he says when they first meet that night at their usual spot, but Ladybug just hums noncommittally, like she didn’t even hear him.

“I brought you a flower so you could show it what real beauty looks like,” he tries a few minutes later, after snagging a daisy from a roof garden they passed.

Still no response. Just more spacing out and smiling at nothing.

“My Lady?” he tries, when she hasn’t reacted to anything he’s done for the past forty-five minutes. “Earth to Ladybug, come in, Ladybug!”

She sighs dreamily, that same distracted, lovestruck look on her face.

“My Lady!” Chat waves a hand in front of her face. Nothing. “Oh _Bugaboo_!”

Well, _that_ gets her attention. “Don’t call me Bugaboo.”

He pouts. “You weren’t responding to anything else! Are you sure you don’t hold a secret affection for being called Bugaboo? A need, even?”

“Pretty sure,” says Ladybug dryly. “I was just – something… happened today.”

Well that’s never a good sign. He nudges just a tiny bit forward. “Yeah?”

“A—Antoine noticed me! I know he did! Really noticed me, I mean. Maybe,” she adds, like she doesn’t want to get her own hopes up, “maybe even flirting! I guess your advice worked, huh?”

“Oh,” says Chat Noir, trying not to sound like he’s just been punched in the gut. “You mean you spent some time with him?”

“No,” says Ladybug, sheepish. “I couldn’t even bring myself to ask him. Especially when he was talking to me like that… And _smiling_ at me like that… I could barely get a coherent sentence out, let alone an invitation!” She sighs, drawing little figure eights on the roof tile with her finger. “Not that this is the first time he’s gotten me all dazzled and tongue-tied.”

Chat scowls. _Dazzled and tongue-tied_. Jesus Bartholomew Christ. Who is this guy trying to be, Edward Cullen?

“Then what did you do different that got his attention?”

“Nothing! He just…noticed me, I guess!”

He frowns. It doesn’t make _sense._

He gets to his feet and starts pacing, his mind whirling with this new information. He’s never noticed her before, and apparently nothing has changed between them… So why is he paying special attention to her _now_? Has he figured out that she’s into him? Is he leading her on? Or maybe he’s intending to use her feelings for his own dastardly schemes…

Or maybe he has feelings for her in return.

Chat pauses.

 _Nahhhh_ , he thinks, mentally beating down the very possibility. This guy is bad news, he’s sure of it. He just doesn’t understand why Ladybug hasn’t figured it out yet!

Ladybug’s curious gaze follows his agitated pacing. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset!” Chat yells. “I’m in a great mood! _You’re_ upset!”

She gives him that familiar lucky-for-you-I’m-tired-to-smack-you-today look.

Chat Noir deflates. “I’m not upset,” he insists. “Just…suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” she says. “Of what?”

He crosses his arms, scowling. “Yesterday he barely noticed your existence and today he’s lavishing you with attention? It’s _fishy_.”

Ladybug shrugs. “I guess your advice worked.”

“Yeah, right,” he mutters, and returns to his back-and-forth circuit across the roof. “More likely he’s finally realized that you’re into him.”

“Wait,” says Ladybug slowly. “You mean he’s realized that I like him and he’s _responding_?” Her eyes light up. “You mean he—”

“No way!” says Chat through gritted teeth. “He’s probably just going after an easy lay! He can’t fall in love with you!”

 _He’s not allowed to,_ Adrien wants to add, but manages to bite it down.

The roof is _silent._

“Did you just,” Ladybug says, very calmly, “call me an easy lay?”

That’s when his own words finally catch up with him and, oh _._

_Oh._

“Um,” says Chat.

“And what, exactly, did you mean by ‘he _can’t_ fall in love with me’?” his Lady asks in that same cold, flat voice.

Welp. It was a nice life while it lasted.

“My Lady, I can explain—”

“No one could possibly have feelings for me. Is that what you’re saying?”

But her voice isn’t angry anymore—it’s quiet and sad and vulnerable, and that’s a million times worse, sending a jolt of horror through him.

He drops down beside her so they’re at the same eye level. “ _No_! No, that’s not what I meant at _all_! Anyone would fall in love with you!” he says frantically, ignoring the ridiculous irony of that statement. “Anyone would be incredibly lucky to have you. And the fact that Antoine didn’t notice you before now… Well, that’s just ‘cause he’s an idiot.” He sighs. _“I’m_ an idiot. I’m just…overprotective of you, I guess.” Well, that’s true, at least. And it finally gets her to look at him, so hooray for small victories. He tries to smile back. “C’mon, you know I say the stupidest things...”

She gives a faint laugh. “Well… We _did_ already confirm yesterday that you’re the furthest thing from a gentleman.”

Adrien could almost laugh if he thought he’d ever be able to stop. He’d spent the entire day trying to prove one thing to his Lady and ended up proving the exact opposite.

“W-well I wouldn’t go that far,” he says weakly. “Maybe I can make it up to you.”

“Hmm,” says Ladybug, something like a smirk curling her lips. “What kind of payback are you talking about here?”

“Anything.”

“ _Anything_?” she teases. “Not anything within reason?”

He grins. “Actually I’d prefer if it weren’t. You know how I feel about reason.”

She laughs and knocks her shoulder against his. “You’re impossible.”

“Nah,” he says, nudging her right back. “Just statistically unlikely.”

His partner takes a moment to consider his offer, and in the meantime Chat really shouldn’t be staring while she bites her bottom lip thoughtfully, leaving it wet and swollen and looking almost as if she’d just been kissed. He really should look away.

And he will. He totally will. Any minute now…

“Well,” she says at last, “I can think of one thing I want.”

“Hmmmm?” He hadn’t been aware of leaning in toward her but suddenly they’re so close, their faces only just a few inches apart, sharing breath… He can practically hear the violins…

“I need your help,” says Ladybug.

She’s so close he could count the long, dark eyelashes framing her blue eyes, the freckles peeking out from under her mask…. Oh good Lord, she has _freckles_. He’s done for. “Help?” he repeats, distracted, his voice coming out rougher than usual. “Help with what?”

“Winning over Antoine, of course.”

His mental romantic music comes to an abrupt halt with a record-scratching noise.

Of course. Stupid Antoine getting in the way of stupid _everything_.

He lets out a long, hard breath and runs a hand through his hair. “What makes you think you need my help, My Lady? Whatever you’re doing so far seems to be working well enough.”

Ladybug swings her legs over the edge of the roof thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re a guy. What would I have to do to seduce _you_?”

Apparently Chat spent his past life kicking puppies and running over little old ladies, because as far as he can tell, the universe just wants to throw pies in his face and laugh.

“I guess that’s a weird question,” his partner muses, while Adrien frantically tries to come up with an answer that isn’t ‘ _you already have_!’ “I’ll phrase it this way – what do _you_ do when you’re trying to get a guy’s attention?”

What does he do when…

When he’s trying to…

Trying to…

What.

“I don’t know,” says Adrien slowly. “I’ve never tried to get a guy’s attention.”

Ladybug frowns. “Why not?”

There’s a long pause, during which Chat briefly considers throwing himself off the roof.

“Ladybug,” he manages instead, his voice very, very calm. “I’m not gay.”

“Really?” she says, eyes widening. “Because I could’ve sworn…”

“No!” he shouts—not _shrieks_ —it’s more of a manly bellow, really. Just a couple of octaves higher than his usual voice. “What made you assume that??”

“I don’t know!” she yells back, obviously flustered. “The outfit?”

“I didn’t choose the outfit!”

“The way you got all… close and personal with Copycat?”

Okay, that _was_ kind of hot, he acknowledges grumpily. But still! “I didn’t choose that either!”

“How about the way you were absolutely _horrified_ by the idea of kissing me in order to get out of Dark Cupid’s influence?”

Well that was…that was when he was being told to avoid and destroy all signs of love. And even possessed he knew that kissing Ladybug would make that impossible.

Which, of course, he can’t tell her.

So instead he settles for muttering, “I’m not gay.”

“Okay,” says Ladybug quietly. “Sorry for assuming you were without asking you.”

“It’s all right,” he says.

There’s silence.

“This makes it kind of awkward though.” She laughs nervously. “I only felt so comfortable asking you this stuff because thought you had gone through it too—trying to get guys’ attention, I mean—and you’d have really good advice. But now I—”

“I can still help you!” Chat cuts in. “Just ‘cause I’m not gay doesn’t mean I haven’t got all the moves.”

“’The moves’?” she says doubtfully.

“Yeah! The _moves._ Like the Smolder.”

“That is not a thing,” says Ladybug with certainty.

He looks down, then looks back up at his Lady, giving her his best Smolder.

“You okay?” she asks, mock-concerned. “Is there a skunk nearby?”

He drops the expression and sighs. “No one appreciates my art. Pearls before swine, I tell you! Pearls before swine.”

She grins. “Did you just call me a pig?”

“Maybe I just called you a pearl,” he replies, putting on the gentleman voice he’d practiced all that morning.

“Pretty sure you didn’t,” says Ladybug, but she’s laughing, and Adrien can’t keep is heart from swelling with the joy of it.

Ladybug laughter trails off and for a few long moments she just sits there, staring out at the twinkling lights of the city. “I wish I was this comfortable with Antoine,” she confesses.

Chat Noir doesn’t respond. He doesn’t trust himself.

“Half of our conversations sound like flirting,” his partner continues, gesturing between the two of them. “It’s always fun, and comfortable, and I just… wouldn’t even know how to begin with him.”

“Really? You’ve never flirted with anyone other than me before?” For some reason the idea lights up every nerve in his body.

“Not successfully.”

“Well there’s nothing to it, really. When you’ve got their attention, you just lower your head, like this, and look up at them.” He shows her what he means. “And then, if you’re brave, you can lick your lips… not porn-star lip-licking, of course, just casually, like it could’ve been an accident. And then you watch their reaction.”

“Like this?” she asks, and looks up at him through dark lashes, her tongue darting out just a tiny bit, tentatively, timidly, to wet her lips.

Chat’s breath hitches. “Y-yeah,” he manages. “That’s good. Really good.”

“Okay, then what do I do?”

“Then you lean in – give them your full attention, make a llttle more eye contact, a little more body contact… If the chemistry is there you won’t have to push it, you’ll just know.”

She nods and leans in to him, looking him right in the eyes, as if seeing straight through him into his soul, making his heartbeat climb through the roof. Jesus, she’s a quick learner, and he’s…

He’s so very, very screwed.

“Chat?” she asks, when he doesn’t reply. “Did I do it right?”

“Yeah,” he says, flustered and breathy and mortified by himself. “You did it perfectly. Just do it like that and no guy will be able to resist you.”

Ladybug smiles at him, bright and hopeful. “Thank you, Chat! You’re the best friend ever.” She breaks into a yawn. “Ahhh man, I’m worn out. Didn’t sleep so much yesterday... I’m gonna call it a night. How about you?”

“Nah, I’ll spend a little more time out here. Nocturnal animals. You know how it is.”

She looks at him fondly. “That I do. Sweet dreams, Chat.”

And she swings away on a nearby telephone pole, and Chat waves at her retreating form until she’s out of sight. Then he lets his head fall into his hand.

‘Sweet’ isn’t exactly how he’d describe the dreams he’s bound to have tonight.

\---

“I can’t believe he’s not gay, Tikki!” Marinette says, falling onto her bed, smothering her blush with her pillow. “That was the most awkward conversation I’ve ever had! Including all the ones with Adrien!”

“Why was it awkward?” Tikki asks.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’ve been flirting with each other all year? We’ve had our bodies pressed right up against each other! I’ve sat in his _lap_! I just assumed…”

She shuts her eyes tight, trying to ignore all the memories she has with Chat Noir that now seem so… so…

Something.

To be honest, she can’t fully explain her sudden awkwardness. She’d just always thought Chat was off-limits, that his flirting was only for fun, but…

But if not, then why he hadn’t wanted to kiss her? Why was he terrified by the very _idea_ of kissing her?

Is there something about her that drives boys away?

Not that she wants Chat to kiss her. Because she doesn’t.

Not even a little.

Even if he _is_ ridiculously good-looking.

And oh. Ohhhh no. Nope nope nope. She is _not_ attracted to Chat Noir. She’s not. She’s noooot…

Marinette groans and smacks her forehead against the wall. When, exactly, did her life get so out of control?


	4. Chapter 4

To the surprise of absolutely nobody, Adrien Agreste is the only person who can get away with sleeping straight through class. At his desk. In the _first row_.

It’s not like Miss Bustier doesn’t notice him. In fact, Kim makes a “generous” offer to wake him (holding up his brand new airhorn, of course, making everyone wince although though he hasn’t even pressed it yet), and Miss Bustier immediately shoots the idea down.

“Let him sleep,” she tells him sternly. “He maintains top grades in the class along with a very demanding full-time job.” Which makes sense, kind of. But everyone knows it’s really because Adrien looks like an angel when he’s asleep.

 _Lucky bastard_ , Nino thinks, halfway between resentful and admiring, glaring at his best friend’s adorably mussed hair, his soft, slow breaths, the long golden eyelashes curled against his cheek….

Suddenly he feels his pocket vibrating, and after a quick glance at Miss Bustier, pulls his phone out, keeping it under his desk.

It’s from Alya. _Grab me a pic, k? ;)_

Nino grins, takes a quick picture of Adrien’s sleeping face, and snapchats it to her. His friend dozes on peacefully.

It’s only when the period has ended and most of the class – including Alya and Marinette – has left the room for their break that Adrien jolts up in his seat, looking around frantically.

“Wha – huh – where… Nino! What time is it?” he demands.

“It’s 10:45, man,” says Nino. “You slept right through second period.”

Adrien flushes. “I have to apologize to Miss Bustier...” He sighs, rubs a hand over his face; mutters, “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Whatever lingering grumpiness Nino might have had about Adrien’s unfair attractiveness fades into worry. “Are you okay?”

He offers him a weak smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just couldn’t relax. My brain wouldn’t shut up. I kept remembering all of our interactions, over and over again, and I just…” Adrien makes a frustrated noise and puts his head in his hands. “It was so _obvious_ in retrospect!”

“What was?” Nino asks.

“I mean, I suspected that she thought the flirting was just a joke,” his friend continues as if he hadn’t spoken.

“Who did?”

“But then she _apologized_ for kissing me, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but the only reason she would feel _bad_ about it is if she thought I _actively_ didn’t like her that way…”

“What way??”

“Which only leaves the one option, really. But still…” Adrien sigh, shakes his head, and finally looks at Nino, his eyes miserable. “You know what I mean?”

“Not even a little bit,” says Nino understandingly.

“Thanks, Nino,” says Adrien, obviously too distracted to actually process what he’d said. “You’re a good friend.”

“Anytime. Now, if you ever want to explain half of what you just—” aaaand it’s too late. Adrien’s eyes have gone distant again, staring off into nothing, lost to the world.

Of course, it’s not like Nino’s an idiot. He knows it’s probably got something to do with Ladybug. Anytime his friend his confused or depressed it’s inevitably his father or Ladybug, and although he might not have understood most of the nonsense coming out of Adrien’s mouth, there was definitely kissing involved. So he just… really hopes, uh… Well, the point is, it’s probably Ladybug in this case. 

And, yes. He had promised – several times, actually, to several people – to stay far away from Adrien’s love life, but dammit, it’s _hard_ to stay neutral when his best friend’s crush keeps hurting him like this! Maybe she’s too busy saving Paris to think about one civilian’s feelings, but that’s exactly why she makes for such awful crush material. Nothing like Marinette, who’s fun and endlessly kind and would never lead him on this kind of cat-and-mouse game…

“Breaking news!” a voice crows behind him—Nino turns to see Alya looking positively triumphant, with Marinette by her side. _Speak of the devil…_ “Guess who’s not here today because of a family emergency!”

“You?” says Nino.

“Mufasa?” Adrien suggests.

Nino looks at him in disgust. “Too soon, man. Too soon.”

“It’s been _twenty-two years_.”

“Still!” he insists.

Alya makes a buzzer noise. “Shockingly enough, you’re both wrong. It’s Ms. Mendeleiev! We get this whole period off, which means we’ve got an extra hour for lunch.” She strikes a yes-you-may-worship-me pose. “You’re welcome.”

“Nice!” Nino cheers. He turns to his friend. “So where d’you want to go for lunch?”

Adrien shrugs. “I’m good with anything, you know me.”

Out of the corner of his eye he notices Marinette open her mouth, start to say something, then close it again. She screws her eyes shut, takes a deep breath, opens her mouth… aaaand closes it again. Her shoulders slump in defeat.

And yes, Nino said he wouldn’t get involved. Said over and over again that he wouldn’t touch Adrien’s love life with a ten-foot pole and _meant_ it, but… But Marinette is so cute, and she’s so much better than Ladybug, and before he really knows what he’s doing, the words are tumbling out of their own accord.

“Marinette and Alya? Do you guys want to join us?” He looks pointedly at Marinette, urging her on.

“Um!” says Marinette, eyes lighting with excitement. “Yes! Absolutely! Yes! Is that okay?”

Adrien turns to her and smiles, and Nino can tell (even if his oblivious friend can’t) that she’s doing her best to not melt into a puddle of goo right there. “Of course.”

His oblivious friend also misses Alya slapping Marinette five under the table.

“But I have to bring Gorilla,” he adds, like he’s just remembered that he’s a world-famous model with the full gamut of passionate and potentially insane fans/admirers/stalkers. “If you guys don’t mind.”

“You really call your bodyguard Gorilla?” Alya asks.

“Well, that _is_ his name,” says Adrien, rubbing the back of his head. “Roustam Gorilla.”

She blinks. “Oh.”

“Anyone have any ideas where we should go?” says Nino.

This time Marinette speaks up without any encouragement, albeit shyly. “Well, there’s this great restaurant around the block that my parents like—”

“Oh, _Adrikins_ ~!”

Ah, it’s Nino’s daily headache, right on cue.

“Of _course_ you’re coming to lunch with me, right, Adrikins?” she croons, latching on to his arm.

“Actually,” says Adrien uncomfortably, and tries to remove Chloé’s hands with as much tact as possible, “I already agreed to go lunch with Nino, Marinette, and Alya, so…”

“Hmph.” She looks around at the rest of the disdainfully. “Well, I guess they can come too, if they must. _Sabrina_!”

She snaps her fingers twice and a moment later her personal slave appears at her side.

“Yes, Chloé?” says Sabrina, eager as only the handmaiden of the devil can be.

But before Chloé can inflict more of her evil agenda on the innocents of class 10B, Alex interrupts her. “Oh, Marinette! Are you going somewhere for lunch? We’d love to come!”

Marinette looks confused. “We?”

“Oh…” Alex glances around herself, apparently surprised.  “Where did he…” Finally her gaze lands on Nathanael, who had been crouching behind one of the desks. “ _There’s_ where you went! C’mon…”

She drags him to his feet and shoves him forward into Mari. “Yeah! _We_.”

Nathanael’s face goes nearly as red as his hair. “I,” he stammers, unable to look at Marinette. “I… umm… I—”

“Well, you can join us if you want,” says Nino, if only to put the poor boy out of his misery.

His only response is more blushing and stammering and staring at anything that isn’t Marinette. See, she and Adrien are obviously perfect for each other, they’re both dense as a pile of rocks!

“All right, so where’s the class going for lunch?” Kim asks, bounding up on top of Marinette and Alya’s desk so he can be closer to the action.

“Um,” says Max. “Kim, I don’t think we’re invited…”

“What are you talking about, of course we’re invited, we’re always invited!”

Max looks very confused, or maybe pained. “That’s, just… not…true…”

“Pizza,” says Ivan, like that’s the end of that.

“I like pizza,” says Myléne shyly. Ivan beams.

“Well, I don’t,” says Rose. “We should go to that café we found last week that serves little sandwiches! It was…uh… what was it again, Juleka?”

“Le Petite Sandwich,” says Juleka.

“Right! It was so _cuuute_! Let’s go there.”

Ivan frowns. “Myléne wants pizza!”

“It’s okay, Ivan,” says Myléne softly. “I don’t really care.”

His expression only gets more thunderous. “Now you’ve made her feel bad about asking for pizza!”

“Well, _you_ all can go for pizza or sandwiches, Adrikins and I want to eat at my father’s new restaurant!”

“ _Actually_ ,” says Alya, her hands on her hips, “Adrien is going to lunch with Marinette!” She pauses. “I mean, Marinette and Nino and me.”

As if that some kind of cue, the classroom explodes into chaos.

“ _Pizza_!” says Ivan.

“Ivan!” says Myléne, covering her eyes.

“ _Sandwiches_!” says Rose.

“Um!” says Nathanael.

“Adrikiiiiins!” Chloé whines.

“I’m hungry!” says Kim.

“Everyone _SHUT UP!!!”_

Everyone shuts up and stares at Alya, who’s breathing hard and looking _this_ close to killing something. Which might explain how ridiculously hot she is right now.

Nino may have a problem.

“I have an idea,” Adrien pipes up in the slightly-alarmed silence that follows Alya outburst. “It’s not far from here, really nice and really cheap, and you can get pretty much any food you want!”

\---

“Adrien,” says Alya, very slow and very patient. “This is a convenience store.”

Adrien looks around the local Monoprix, with its two-euro hot dogs and packaged sandwiches and overpriced granola bars. For the very first time since they’d learned about their free period, the entire class is silent, staring around at the rubbery, mass-produced food around them. Chloé looks like she’s gone catatonic.

“So?” he says, a little defensively. “It’s clean. It’s cheap. And the food is great! I eat here all the time…”

“Adrien,” says Alya, her voice grave, “it’s part of a _gas station_.”

Adrien just looks back at her, confused. “So?”

“You’re hopeless,” she informs him matter-of-factly.

“And it’s cheap!” Adrien says again, because some of his classmates have turned wide, uncomprehending, _betrayed_ eyes on him. “Last time I bought pizza here it was less than half a franc!”

Apparently that’s enough to bring Nino out of his convenience-store-induced daze. “There is no way it was that cheap.”

"Yes," says Gorilla flatly. Nino _cowers_.

"That’s what I paid last time,” Adrien insists. “The employees were really friendly.”

“Was the cashier young and female and looking at you like this?” Nino sighs dreamily and clasps his hands together in lovestruck admiration.

“Yeah!” says Adrien, excited. “Do you know her?”

Nino turns to Alya. “He’s hopeless,” he confirms.

“My shoes are sticky,” Chloé whimpers.

“W-well I think it’s really nice here,” says Marinette shyly.

Adrien gives her a grateful smile. “Really?”

Is it just him or is she closer than she was a second ago? “Yeah,” she says, looking up at him through her eyelashes. She looks somehow…familiar like that….

He stares at her for a moment, baffled by the sudden déjà vu, before he realizes that _of course_ she looks familiar. She’s his classmate! Hah! Silly him. She doesn’t remind him of anyone. Except herself, of course. Haha… haaa….

Marinette, who had been touching his arm and blinking very quickly, suddenly freezes up.

“Are you okay?” Adrien asks, concerned. “You look like you’ve just smelled something bad.” He thinks it isn’t him. Or at least, he hopes so. He tries not to feed Plagg in the middle of the day but he still can’t escape the cheese-stink entirely.

“I-I-I’m fine!” Marinette squeaks. “Carry on!” And suddenly she’s bolted away and at the complete opposite end of the group of students, as far away from him as possible.

“My shoes are sticky,” Chloé whimpers again.

\---

“He laughed at you,” Chat Noir repeats flatly.

They’ve just finished fighting down a relatively minor akuma (minor in that neither of them had to use their special abilities, so they could actually hang around afterwards, which is always nice), and Ladybug is _avoiding the point_.

“Look, it’s a long story, okay?” she says, laughing nervously, maybe to make him think she’s okay, or maybe because she’s the current subject of his Glare of Death™, for lack of available Antoines. “You can’t take that one part out of context! We kind of went for lunch – with other people, like you said, and I did what you told me, and, um…”

“And he laughed at you.” Chat had never seriously thought before about how he’d murder someone, which is a shame, really, because he hates to do things without the proper preparation.

But he’ll do it anyway. If he must.

“I think it was just a misunderstanding,” says Ladybug, not looking at him.

“You’re right,” says Chat, his voice very soft and very pleasant, his head buzzing with a strange kind of homicidal calmness. “Why don’t you give me his address and I’ll go clear everything up for him?”

 _I could climb up the wall into his room_ , he muses through the warm, blood-red haze in his brain. _There would be no fingerprints. Nothing at all to connect me to the crime—_

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” his partner reminds him. “But thanks.”

 _—push him out the window,_ Chat thinks, not really hearing her. _No, too messy, poison might be a better way to go—_

“What would you even do with his address anyway?” she asks, pulling him back to the conversation at hand. “It not like you have anything to do with him.”

“I would like to challenge him to a duel,” Chat declares. 

“The kind of duel where you slap each other with your gloves, demand satisfaction, and shoot each other in Weehawken at dawn, or the kind of duel where you believe in the heart of the cards and d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-duel?”

 _How about the kind of duel where I kill him and he dies?_ “Neither," he says instead, because he can't imagine that going over so well.

"I don't think he was trying to be dismissive, he was just distracted, you know? He's really busy..." She's babbling, as she always does when the topic of Antoine comes up, trying to assure him that she’s fine, or maybe herself, but this time even she doesn’t believe it. He can see the hope draining out of her a little bit each time she has to come up with explanations for his behavior. Which is... which is what he wanted to happen, which _needs_ to happen, but it still hurts to watch. "He has a ton of friends, and he's great at school, and he's a model, so -"

“He’s a _model_?” Chat yells, and Ladybug's expression goes kind of panicked.

“No!” she says quickly. “Of course not! What are the chances that I’d know a _model_ , I mean, come _on_ … I – I meant to say that he’s a model, uh…citizen! Yes! He’s very busy with, um. Taking care of his honorable civic duties…”

But Adrien is already elsewhere, frantically flipping through his mental catalogue (or, more accurately, his _cat_ -alogue. Heh. …Okay shut up, brain, think think _think_ ) of male teenaged models in the area. It isn’t like he knows _everyone_ —after all, Paris is the fashion capital of the world, and by necessity there’s a model for every outfit—but surely he’d remember if he met Antoine Pillsbury Doucheboy McJerkface….

“I just have to get him interested,” she says, an edge of hopelessness to her voice, and that’s it, that’s enough to bring the burning, acrid fury back up into his chest.

As a model he knows all about making yourself into an object solely used to appeal to someone, to _everyone_ , being nothing more than the mannequin, the frame for whatever they want to see. It's bad enough professionally; if that's who she becomes personally, it will tear her apart.

"That’s insane!” he explodes. “You shouldn’t have to advertise yourself for him to like you! All you have to be is _you_.”

And Ladybug doesn’t respond, just stares up at him with wide blue eyes, and… and something that looks almost like a blush under her mask. (Chat wonders vaguely if she’s cold.) A heavy silence descends between them.

Finally, after what feels like a very long time she looks away, and Adrien breathes and tries to will his rapidfire heartbeat down.

“Forget trying to win him over subtly,” he says; forces himself to say, because this isn’t his battle, not really. It’s hers, and he promised to see her through to the end. “It’s time to move to Step Three. Now that he’s seen you, and hung out with you, it’s time force him to make a decision.” _It’s time to force you to see him for the self-obsessed bastard he really is._

“Force him to make a decision?” Ladybug says, alarmed. “But—”

“Ask him out on a date,” says Chat.

“WHAT?!” she yells. “ _No way!”_

“You have to do it. You’ve waited for him long enough, and it’s time you got some closure on this, once and for all.” If he needed yet another sign of his partner’s desperation, her lack of protest is just that. She may not be ready for this step, but she can’t take much more of this emotional torment either. “It’s time he made his decision one way or another.”

“But what if he…” she trails off, looking at him helplessly, unable to finish.

“You’ll be okay,” he assures her. “You’ll be okay no matter what he chooses.”

 _And so will I,_ he tells himself, his hands tightening on the ledge painfully despite his best efforts. _I have to be_.

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever want to talk about this fic or anything else, feel free to contact me here or at my [tumblr](http://famous-wwi-flying-ace.tumblr.com/), my home for fic previews and updates and cute pictures of cats.


End file.
